Cat Burglar
by caswingsuniverse
Summary: Castiel's cat, Lucifer, Castiel's cat, Lucifer, has been stealing underwear from the neighboring dormitories. In hopes of returning them, he puts a flyer in the laundry mat. That's when Dean appears at his apartment to talk about the ad. I may add another chapter to this depending on the feedback :) thanks for reading 3
1. Chapter 1

A single black sock. That's what Castiel finds in the middle of the hallway one morning as he gets ready for work. Raising an eyebrow, the man kneels and picks it up. He owns quite a few black socks of the same caliber, and figures he'd dropped it on his way from the laundry room to the bed room while doing laundry. His cat, Lucifer, meows and stalks away with his tail high in the air.

The next day, he comes home from his work out and kicks another dark garment across the hardwood floor. Covered in sweat, muscles aching, and a much needed shower on his mind, Castiel leaves it, though curious. After cleaning himself, he wraps a towel around his waist and goes to the fridge to get a cold bottle of water.

He leans against the doorframe, skin still damp from the steam. Lucifer purrs and rubs against his legs, gold eyes flashing as he looks up at the man. Castiel smiles down at the cat. "Hello, Luci."

He receives a short meow in response. Castiel nods like he understands, taking another swig of his water. "I'm doing well, thanks for asking."

Lucifer tilts his head, meowing a few more times before going down the short hallway to the living room. Castiel watches him go, running a hand through his wet curls. He has a paper to write for his Gender Construction in Literature class, a Spanish review sheet to look over and an article to write for the university's paper. Sighing, he pushes off the doorframe to go back to his room and notices the dark fabric on the floor again.

He picks it up from the ground, holding it up in front of him. Castiel examines the pair of boxers. He's 100 percent sure he doesn't own any boxers with the Batman symbol across the front. While he doesn't mind the DC character, he favors plain briefs over pricey designs.

"Lucifer, are you stealing from the laundry mat?"

The tabby glares at Castiel for a split second before curling up to nap. Castiel shakes his head, folding the boxers and putting them in a grocery bag. He decides to take them to lost and found the next time he does laundry.

…

The typical week passes. Castiel goes to his classes, burdened with literature and his foreign language classes as well as his required credits in math- too busy to remember to go to the lost and found. Soon he finds himself creating a new routine. He wakes up, showers, makes coffee, goes to class, then comes back to find a new undergarment on the floor in the front hall.

Lucifer sometimes sits on the fabric like it's a Gain scented throne. Other times he carries his prize between his teeth, delivering it directly to Castiel when he comes through the door. Either way, he watches curiously as Castiel picks it up and adds it to the bag of stolen underwear. The styles range from women's lace panties, the kind from Victoria's Secret, to the simplest of boxers. As the number grows, Castiel tries to figure out how to get the garments to their rightful owners.

Sitting down at his laptop, Castiel starts brainstorming for a flyer he can hang up in the laundry mat. Only west wing dormitories use the laundry mat he goes to, so he hopes that by posting the flyer there, he can return some of the stolen objects.

He types up a simple message: **"Are you missing your underwear? My cat has been snatching undergarments for little over a week. If you wish to retrieve what is yours, my apartment is C309. What is not picked up will be donated at the end of the week."**

He hits print, creating a mental reminder to take it with him when he goes to do his laundry.

…

He pushes the tack into the corkboard with a nod. The flyer doesn't particularly stand out amongst the others, but the large bold letters at the top could draw an eye. Turning back to the line of washers, he goes to the closest open one and starts loading in his clothes. He glances around the laundry mat as he drops a Tide Pod into the washer and closes it. A few other students wander about with their own laundry. Castiel squints to get a better look at each person. Any one of them could be a victim of Lucifer's burglaries.

Shaking his head, Castiel goes back to the desk in the corner. He doesn't need to worry about his new trove of underwear; he needs to focus on his upcoming midterms.

….

Someone knocks on his door a few days later. Castiel's washing dishes in the small sink of the apartment and bobbing his head to music. At first he didn't hear it, the sound following the beat of the song he's listening to. After a couple more measures of the melody, Castiel hears it. A steady crack of curled knuckles against the wooden door. He looks across the room at Lucifer sitting on one of the stools. Both cat and human glance at the door together.

Castiel dries his hands on a nearby towel, turning off the music as he moves towards the door. He ruffles Lucifer's fur as he walks by, whispering, "Maybe it's someone to pick up your stolen goods, Luci."

The tabby purrs, jumping from his perch to follow Castiel to the door. Checking the peephole first, Castiel's eyes widen. A man, about his age with a slightly taller build, stands on the other side of the door. The stranger bounces on his toes, looking around at the other apartments. Despite the fish eye perspective, the stranger's distorted features are attractive. Unlocking the door, Castiel opens it.

"Hello, can I help you?" Castiel says, leaning against the doorframe to make it appear that he's calm and collected. The stranger's eyes are a vibrant green with flecks of gold, freckles dotting his cheeks and nose. He has a few wrinkles around his eyes and the corner of his lips, laugh lines Castiel finds endearing. The slope of his shoulders to his waist is defined under his v-neck shirt, but he appears more soft than chiseled.

The guy opens his mouth a couple of times, looking at Castiel's feet for a second before actually speaking. "Hi, I… uh saw your flyer in the laundry mat? I'm actually missing quite a few pairs of my underwear…"

"Oh! Come in, come in." Castiel steps back and gestures to the inside of the house.

The guy clears his throat as he steps across the threshold, looking around as Castiel shuts the door. After closing the door, Castiel holds out his hand for the stranger to shake.

"I'm Castiel," he says, nodding towards Luci as he pads towards the new human. "That is the thief."

"Dean," the other man answers, shaking Castiel's hand. When they let go of each other's hands, Dean kneels and lets Lucifer sniff his fingers before petting him. Lucifer purrs, arching into the touch. "So you're the reason I've been commando for a week."

Castiel freezes, blushing as the mental image fills his mind. Dean continues to pet the tabby, unaware that Castiel stares at the waistband of the man's worn Levis. Lucifer's gold eyes flash at Castiel in such a way it looked like he winked. Castiel scowls at the cat and shakes his head to clear it. He moves towards the cupboard where the grocery bag hangs from the white handle.

Taking it in his hand, he holds it out to Dean. The man as he says, "Thanks."

Ears hot, Castiel nods. "You can come sit down in the kitchen while you gather your stuff. The table is clean."

Dean offers a tight lipped smile in response, following Cas into the kitchen. He scans the small, green room, smile softening as he notices the ceramic plates and metal tea kettle. The sugar and flour containers remind Dean of his mother's kitchen, the homey feel he missed while away at college. He settles in one of the wooden chairs, plopping the bag onto the small table as Castiel sits in the other chair. His blue eyes follow Dean's careful movements.

The plastic bag crackles as Dean opens it wider. He flinches at the sound, eyes widening as he takes in all of the underwear stuffed into the bag. "You've gotta be kidding me…"

Silence envelops the two men as Dean pulls out undergarment after undergarment. He slowly folds pairs of boxers with Marvel character logos and plaid briefs. His hands jump over the lace and satin and flower patterns, mouth dry when he spots them. Castiel watches him, tilting his head when he notices Dean swallow over and over.

"Would you like something to drink?"

Dean's breath hitches in surprise, gaze focusing on Castiel. He slumps against the back of the chair. "Some water sounds great, thanks."

Castiel goes about filling a glass of water and Dean hunches over the bag. As quickly as possible, Dean shoves pairs of panties between his boxers and briefs without folding them. The touch of smooth softness against his fingers makes him shiver.

He never thought anything of washing these more personal garments in the public laundry mat. His fellow classmates thought of them as trophies, leftovers from his post-party escapades. When he noticed his stash of panties dwindling, he wondered if he'd left them lying around. He tore his room apart, more anxious about the pinks and purples than the Batman and Captain America symbols. When he found Castiel's flyer in the laundry mat, he'd thought for hours about whether or not he should see if any of it belongs to him. It had taken him years to build up his supply, only buying the panties during holidays to pass them off as gifts. So he'd swallowed his dignity and took the short trip to Castiel's apartment.

Castiel turns around, full glasses in hand. He had moved so quietly Dean didn't notice at first, snatching a navy blue, all-lace number from the bag and hiding it underneath a pair of red boxers. Castiel furrows his eyebrows as he sits back down at the table. Dean sits up straight again like lightning shot through his bones. His heart pangs against his ribs. Placing the glasses on the table, Castiel sits back. Lucifer comes and sits at his feet, glancing between him and Dean as if to suggest starting a deeper conversation. Castiel glares at him, pushing a thought towards the tabby even though he can't hear. _He probably has a girlfriend. Face like that and the women's underwear?_

Lucifer's pupils arc almost like he rolled his eyes at the thought and jumps into Dean's lap. Both men remain silent as Dean takes a drink of water. Using his free hand, Dean absentmindedly pets Lucifer. The tabby purrs until Dean stops and goes back to sorting through the underwear. Lucifer then stands on his hind legs, gold eyes fixed on Castiel as he paws at the pile. One of his claws catches on lace, pulling out the same pair of panties Castiel spotted earlier.

Dean pushes Lucifer off of his lap, causing his pile of undergarments to fall off the edge of the table and onto the floor. Stammering, Dean kneels onto the ground and pushes the clothes together. Castiel shoos Lucifer away, kneeling next to Dean to help refold what Dean had claimed. He doesn't hesitate as he folds the panties beside Dean. The other man's cheeks and neck flush a deep red, hands shaking. He notices how thin and pale Castiel's fingers are, but also how confident and strong they appear. As Castiel folds his favorite pair of panties- a thin, pink satin pair with a bow over an ass cage- Dean pictures those hands tracing the outline of the lace borders on his ass. The image trickles down his spine, causing goosebumps to rise on his skin. Dean continues to stare as Castiel moves to other pairs, but the thought lingers.

Castiel glances at Dean from the corner of his eye, noticing when Dean stops folding. Tension radiates from the man, thick enough Castiel feels his chest tighten. He clears his throat and says, "Your girlfriend has great taste. These are very tasteful."

Dean's eyes widen at the comment and he quickly admits, "I don't have- I mean… I'm not dating- I've been single for a while."

Castiel sits back on his feet, legs folded underneath him. He spreads his legs a little to be more comfortable in his jeans and rests his hands on his knees. Staring at the floor, he misses Dean gulp while taking in the pose.

"I apologize for imposing," he says to the pile. Fixing his blue eyes on Dean again, he offers a small smile. "If you wish to get rid of anything, you are more than welcome to throw them away here. I still occasionally find my ex's belongings mixed in with my cloths, so I understand."

Cheeks still warm, Dean holds Castiel's gaze. He can't remember ever seeing another pair of eyes so blue or mesmerizing; they look like a pair of shining whirlpools. He takes a deep breath to relax and laughs. "Thanks for the offer, but I'm good. They, uh, belong to me actually."

Dean rubs the back of his neck, looking away from the other man. Instantly, regret makes his muscles heavy. His heart skips a beat. _Idiot,_ he thinks, _why the fuck would you say that?_

"Oh…" Castiel murmurs, skin tingling when he realizes when Dean means. Lucifer watches the duo, tilting his head while Castiel stares at him. "Well, then you have very good taste, Dean."

Dean gasps, stomach dropping and heat rushing through his veins. Running a hand through his hair, he takes in all of the underwear in front of him. He chuckles, laughter growing and filling the entire apartment. Castiel watches him, smiling as Dean holds his stomach and doubles over.

Castiel starts to laugh as well, leaning forward while still holding a pair of panties.

"Thanks, man," Dean says, wiping his eyes. He shakes his head, putting a hand on Castiel's shoulder. They stay like that for a couple minutes, occasionally busting out into another fit of giggles. Eventually, Dean picks up his favorite pair, running his thumbs along the lace border along the waistband.

Dean smirks as he stands up. Looking down at Castiel, he winks and says, "I'm gonna go put these on. Where's the bathroom?"

Castiel stammers for a few seconds, pointing down the hall. "First door on the left."

As the man walks away, Castiel looks at his cat. Lucifer licks one of his paws, stopping briefly to glare at Castiel knowingly.

"You little shit, what have you gotten me into," Castiel says, the tone of his statement softening as he contemplates how this could work out.

Lucifers simple meows.


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel folds the rest of the underwear before him. The silence throughout his apartment makes him shudder. He strains to hear even the slightest jingle of Dean's jeans, hands shaking as he pictures the gruff man putting on such a thin garment. He clears his throat and shakes his head, tries to keep the heat from traveling below his waistline. That internal struggle is enough to keep his mind busy as Dean lingers in the bathroom.

The other man contemplates his reflection in Castiel's bathroom. Dean's jeans sit on the floor in a wrinkled pile, his boots kicked off next to them. He twists in front of the small mirror above the sink, backed up against the wall to get the best view. The ass cage plunges half way down, allowing a wide angled view of his backside. The satin feels cold on his dick despite the heat radiating off his skin. Dean bites his bottom lip, the thought of Castiel trailing his hands over his skin making the heat pulse in time with his rushed heartbeat.

He quickly yanks on his jeans before splashing some cold water on his face. Dean stares at his reflection, frowning when he notices the flushed state of his cheeks. "Get it together."

The rough fabric rub against his skin in a light caress as he kneels to put on his boots. Dean shudders once again, trying to ignore how his body twitches with interest. Rubbing his hands on his thighs, Dean exits the bathroom. Deep breaths help settle him as he rounds the corner.

Castiel kneels on the floor, legs angled behind him. The rest of the underwear on the floor is folded before the man. Dean is about to say thank you when he notices more of the scene. Castiel clutches a pair of briefs in his fist, knuckles white. His eyes are closed. Not crunched up tight, but lightly closed as he tries to focus. Dean's mouth goes dry again and he clears his throat. "You okay, buddy?"

Castiel's eyes shine when they lock on Dean, pupils wider than Dean remembers. Considering that, another shock wave of warmth courses through Dean's body. The man on the floor offers a smile, standing. "I'm well enough, thank you."

"Glad to hear it," Dean says, approaching the table. Castiel watches his movements, eyes dropping to Dean's crotch for a split second. He blinks a few times to refocus.

"Would you like a grocery bag for your clothes?" Castiel asks, picking up the folded pairs on the floor.

"Yeah," Dean responds, pulling out his remaining underwear from the bag on the table. "That would be helpful. Thanks."

Nodding, Castiel grabs an extra grocery bag from under his sink. He gently opens it, searching the plastic for holes. He bites the inside of his cheek, trying to banish all sexual thoughts of Dean from his mind. He just met the man, and while the tension was clear before them, Castiel had never been the forward type.

Together, they put the undergarments into the Target bag. Their fingers brush for an instant, making Dean jump like he stepped into a shower with the water too hot. Their eyes meet for the shortest of seconds, the air thick.

Dean put the bag straps on his wrist, fishing for his keys in his pocket. Cold metal pressing into his palms, Dean smiles at Castiel.

"Well… thanks…?" He holds up the bag to make a point. Castiel smiles back, nodding. Dean continues, "You're the first person I've told about this… It's kind of a relief, knowing that someone knows and doesn't judge me. Takes a load off, ya know?"

Castiel's lips stretch in the cutest way when he smiles. A little curl of his lip that Dean notices now that he's fixed on the man's mouth. He also has a little stubble that shapes the sharp curves of his jawline. Biting the corner of his lip, Dean looks away.

"You're very welcome, Dean," Castiel says, heart skipping a beat when he notices green eyes drop to his mouth.

After another awkward moment of silence, Dean smiles again and turns to leave. He reaches the door when his keys lip from his fingertips. Cursing, Dean bends over to pick them up, giving Castiel a perfect view of his ass.

The other man's heart and lungs stop as soon as they spot the bow of Dean's panties over the waistband of his blue jeans. The lines of ribbon forming the ass cage Castiel knows is there taunts him. Goosebumps rise on his skin as cold and heat crash down his body like buckets of water. He drowns in his next shaky breathes. Dean's slightly flushed cheeks, the slight part of his lips, the crinkles next to his eyes as he stands to face Castiel again break the boundary of Castiel's anxiety. The simple phrase _fuck it_ races through his mind as he reaches for the slightly taller man.

Noticing the brightness of Castiel's eyes, Dean's heart drops and all blood leaves his head. When Castiel starts to close the distance between them, Dean grins and accepts the embrace. Pale hands scrabble shirt, yanking him into a kiss.

Their lips crash together and a tidal wave sweeps them both off their feet. Dean drops the things in his hands, hips leaning out to meet Castiel's. Framing Dean's face, Castiel's breath is uneven. Within seconds, Dean has Castiel pinned against his apartment door, rocking against him while exploring the shape of his back with hot hands. Castiel grunts from the contact, then whimpers. He squirms under Dean's touch, arching against him whenever he moves away in the slightest.

Castiel's hands slide down Dean's back, eyes opening when his fingertips touch the lace borders along Dean's hips. He growls, a sound low in his chest as he flips them. Pressing Dean against the door now, Castiel bites the man's neck to keep him from protesting. Pale fingers grapple with the button and zipper of Dean's jeans as he sucks on the man's neck. Dean quivers, hips jerking forward into the light touches. He throws his head back, resting it against the door with his eyes closed.

Once Castiel has the jeans unbuttoned, he pulls back. Dean's eyes open, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Castiel searches the depths of his pupils, fingers tracing the lines of Dean's cheekbones. The gentle touch surprises the man, a sudden change from his bite earlier.

"Cas?" he asks, standing a little straighter. His dick throbs in his pants, but he ignores it as his companion remains silent.

"You're okay with this?" Castiel asks softly, fingers brushing over Dean's bottom lip.

Dean's first reaction is to laugh, the tent in his undone jeans and longing in his chest proof enough. But the soft look on Castiel's face stops him. He places a kiss on Castiel's lips and smiles. "More than okay."

Castiel searches his eyes for a second more before resting his weight against Dean again. He shoves the jeans down enough so he can run his hands over the curve of Dean's ass. When Dean hums, Castiel grins and kisses along his jaw. He stops at Dean's ear, growling as he drags a finger from the bottom of Dean's ass to the small of his back. Dean rocks forward, gasping when Castiel's voice drops. "Good…"

The motion of their bodies becomes a harmony. Their hips press together, each man exploring the other carefully. Despite the their constant movements, the insistent press of Castiel's thigh against Dean's crotch, both are hesitant as they touch each other. Both search for those places that make the other jump or gasp or shudder. Castiel chuckles when Dean jump in surprise as Cas squeezes his ass. Dean laughs breathlessly as well, noting how much he loves the other man's laugh. Or just his voice.

Dean, on the other hand, finds the way Castiel moves away, then closer, when Dean digs his fingernails into his thighs. Or how he moans when Dean pulls on his hair. The power he has over Castiel rivals the other man's hold on him. They go back and forth, playing each other's weak spots until both are panting messes leaning against the door to keep them up.

"Couch?" Castiel asks, using the one word to convey an entire question as he snaps the waist band of Dean's panties against his skin. Yelping, Dean pulls back to nod. Castiel takes his hand, pulling him into the living room. Dean holds his jeans up, laughing at the ridiculous jingle it makes as he shuffles. Castiel blushes as he stops in front of the couch.

Both men stare at the leather couch, then at each other. After a moment of uncertainty, Dean pushes Castiel onto the couch by steering his shoulders. The sharp zipper of his jeans press into his skin as he moves. He quickly kicks off his boots and pants, cheeks flushed when he ntoices Castiel watching him. He then straddles Castiel's lap, wrapping his arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss. The warm press of Dean's lips warms Castiel all the way to his toes. Not the kind to go out much, Castiel always wondered if he'd find a guy at college. And now a man is giggling and trembling and excited on his lap.

His hands find their places on instinct, pressing fingers into Dean's exposed hips. Castiel smiles against Dean's lips, leaning his head back as the man kissing down his neck. Whenever Dean rocks forward, Castiel rocks upward to meet him, suddenly glad he chose to wear sweatpants. He moans into Dean's mouth, heat hovering off his skin when Dean moans in response. Dean presses closer, chest to chest with the man underneath him. The front of his panties is damp, almost enough to stain Castiel's sweatpants as he pushes down harder with a whimper. Castiel slides his hands over the curve of Dean's ass, pulling him even closer.

They keep moving like that, the air conditioning in Castiel's apartment pushing cold air onto their skin. They shudder together, but neither complains about the breeze. The satin fabric barely containing Dean, the strain of his muscles creating an ache in his chest. Castiel breathes against his neck, hands clutching Dean as he takes on each strike of pleasure. The man on top of him moans, finger digging into Castiel's hair. "Cas, I'm… fuck…"

Castiel nods, tilting his head up to kiss Dean. Breaking off, he rests his forehead against Dean's and stares into the man's half-lidded eyes. He scrambles for a thought, an idea flashing through his mind and quickly dissipating. Castiel grabs Dean's hips, pushing him off his lap and onto the empty space next to him. He moves Dean's legs to frame his waist, smiling down at the surprised expression of the man's flushed face. Hovering above Dean, Castiel kisses him once more. He moves slower this time, one hand holding Dean's cheek. Trailing from his face and down his chest, Castiel gently runs his knuckles over Dean's panties. Dean gasps, rocking into the light touch as his eyes flutter close.

Nuzzling the crook of Dean's neck, he pulls the waist band up and take's Dean's dick in his fist. He moves quickly, running his thumb over the head and earning a shaky moan in response. Dean arches up off the couch, breath hitching when Castiel twists his wrist on an upstroke. His lips move as if to say something, but he doesn't have the air to say it. The muscles in his chest and legs spasm, his eyes clench closed, his grip on Castiel's hair and shirt tighten. With that tight moment of silence, Dean comes. His body falls back against the leather, his bare legs sticking to it as his skin cools. Castiel kisses his neck before pulling back. He smiles down at Dean's blissful expression and shakes his head. Dean raises an eyebrow at the man. "Somethin funny?"

Castiel rests his forehead against Dean's chest, moving his messy hand to Dean's thigh. "No, you're just beautiful is all."

Dean blushes, heart skipping a beat at the word. He swallows, poking Castiel's side and choosing to ignore the fuzzy feeling in his chest. He can feel Castiel's own unanswered want pressing into his legs. Pushing Cas off him, he offers his own grin. Castiel raises an eyebrow, eyes widening when Dean pushing down his sweatpants. At the calloused touch of Dean's palm, Castiel hisses, his skin sensitive.

One hand cupping Castiel's neck, thumb rubbing soft circles into the man's skin, Dean makes quick work of Cas. When he sees Castiel bite his bottom lip, he whispers, "Come on Cas, let go."

Castiel opens his eyes to look down at Dean. He moans while still biting his lip, hips thrusting into Dean's grip one last time before all the tension crumbles. He gasps for breath, keeping himself up on shaking arms as Dean pulls his hand back. Without fear of hurting Dean's arm, he collapses onto Dean's chest. Drowsiness quickly blankets him, soothing his muscles and slowing his heart. Dean pets his hair with his clean hand. He smiles at the fluffed look of the black curls, twirling a lock around his forefinger. Leaning into the soft touches, Castiel hums.

The cool air makes Castiel shiver, skin drying. He pushes his hand up Dean's shirt, spreading his fingers across Dean's warm abdomen. The man beneath him leans forward, kissing the top of Castiel's head.

"That was… something…" Dean mumbles into Castiel's hair. The honey scent fills his nose, makes his smile grow as he lies his head back.

Nodding, Castiel nuzzles the man's chest. He tilts his head up to glance at the man. Dean doesn't appear uncomfortable. In fact, the soft pink color of his cheeks and brightness in his eyes suggest otherwise. "Can I take you out to dinner tonight?"

Dean's hand freezes and his eyes focus on Castiel's. He searches the blue for a hint of doubt, a hint of mockery. He finds nothing. Grinning, he laughs, "I think I can fit you in, yeah."

Humming, Castiel moves his head back into a comfortable position. He listens to Dean's heartbeat, counts each pulse as they both settle into their quiet euphoria.


End file.
